


Stolen glances and bedtime stories

by headraline



Series: Detroit: Become Human Prompts [15]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bedtime Stories, I wrote this in a total of two hours, M/M, a complete fluff fest, and disaster gays, fairytales - Freeform, fluff for days, its just fluff, old italian tales lmao, so don't expect earth-shattering work, soft bois
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 00:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17376464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headraline/pseuds/headraline
Summary: «Markus, what are we even doing?»«She is lonely and scared to sleep by herself. [...] Do this for me?»«...Fine.»he clears his voice before raising it a little, "I will now scan the area for any traces of monsters."There’sanother thing he’d never done before."Good. I'll check under the bed."





	Stolen glances and bedtime stories

**Author's Note:**

> I... don't even know what this is.  
> I wrote it in a total fo maybe two hours between getting ready for work, commuting to, and commuting back.  
> it's barely even spellchecked with the automatic checker.
> 
> I'm late to RK1K week, I won't even think about catching up to previous prompts (especially because some of those -like the fake relationship one; the pole dancing one and the Youtube AU- are basically things that I've already done/am doing right now, so.... there. XD ) but I had this idea this morning and thought... fuck it.
> 
> So, this is for RK1K week day for, mixing the prompts _Connor's Firsts or Lasts with Markus_ (in this case Firsts) and _Sharing a Bed._
> 
> As it usually happens with my writing, it got wildly away from me and just unspooled on its own.  
> Just... take this. I'm not even gonna try to bullshit my way out of this one.

The events of Hart Plaza made history, but the battle from android rights is far from over: it took weeks to restore any kind of normalcy in the city of Detroit, months before androids were legally recognized as ‘people’ by US law, and it will take even longer than that to grant them civil rights and actually, truly make them equal to humans.

It’s still a struggle, the battlefield has just shifted from city streets and marches to meetings and interviews –Markus still very much goes out to sit or stand wherever he needs to in order to have his voice heard, but such occurrences are fewer and farther in-between. He is no longer the _public enemy_ , he is the brave one who dared challenge the status quo, the one who spoke up, the one to teach mankind a lesson or two about what being alive means.

He glances at the android by his side. Just like _his_ role has changed and evolved, Connor is no longer _the android sent by Cyberlife_ ; instead he’s the one who did what no one, man or android, ever could, the one who got his hands dirty to keep Markus’ clean… the one who waltzed right into the lion’s den and walked out a winner.

From Right Hand of the Creator to Left Hand of the Rebellion in just three bullets and a few kilometres.

That one impressive victory instantly made him Markus’ de facto ‘second in command’, even though the RK200 himself doesn’t really like the term, because it implies a power over Connor that he wouldn’t like to have –not to mention would never exercise in the first place. But, there are positives to such a definition: Connor was originally built to be a hostage negotiator and detective, which means he’s incredibly helpful in political debate, his skills as a manipulator and personal insights having been priceless more than once in their long journey towards recognition.

For the RK800 himself it feels advantageous to be considered Markus’ ‘second’, because that way he can pose as his bodyguard without it seeming out of place –their fearless leader will fight with rapt abandon for their cause, through dialogue and debate and what have you, but when it comes to harming someone, even for the sake of his own continued survival?

Let’s just say Markus has a poor track record in terms of self-preservation and leave it at that.

Connor has taken it upon himself to fight for Markus if the other won’t fight for himself because he’s too busy fighting for _everybody else_. No matter what the RK200 says, his life is too important to their people… but there’s more than that.

There’s always been more than that. Since they crossed paths on Jericho— hell, since he first saw Markus’ face in Stratford Tower and discovered he wasn’t the only RK prototype around. Connor protected him even before realizing he was doing it, he hid Markus’ identity from Hank for as long as he could get away with, and when they finally were face to face he stayed his hand, he embraced change like he never did before. Like it was _meant_ to go this way –in a sense, it was, considering the Amanda program’s words as they tried to control him, later that night.

Boy, is he glad _that_ plan went off the rails.

Either way, he’s grown protective of the RK200, in a way that hasn’t escaped the others from the original Jericho androids; and which most of them approve, since the general consensus is that Markus needs to actually take better care of himself –for a model who was originally intended to be a patient caretaker, he’s a big fat hypocrite– and if such care comes in the form of a pissed off RK800 who takes _none_ of Markus’ bullshit, then so be it.

Connor nearly was Markus’ doom twice over. He _won’t_ let anything happen to the other, not under _his_ watch. He cares too much about Markus for anything to happen, revolution be damned: before meeting him, Connor had been lost… he wasn’t just a machine, he hadn’t been for a long time, but he still refused to believe he was a _deviant_ –a term with such a negative meaning hammered into it by his _masters_ and so vehemently reinforced that it _repulsed_ Connor to think he could be.

Then he came face to face with Markus— deviant and proud of it, shouting ‘I am alive’ until a tentative voice made his way into Connor’s mechanical heart: _you can be alive too. You can put down the gun, and take his hand instead._

When that boundless admiration morphed into something _more_ , something deeper and much more primal, Connor can’t quite pin-point. It drives him nuts not to be able to find the exact moment he started having feelings for Markus, but fact is that he does. He cares for the RK200 in a way he never has for anyone, not even Hank who’s basically family, and he would give anything to be close to him.

Markus being who he is, he noticed the subtle shifts in the other’s behaviour, the different lilt to his voice when they have a chance to speak alone, the way Connor enjoys back-talking to him at every chance just to rile him up, the subtle looks, the innuendos… he noticed, and he hasn’t pushed away.

It’s flattering, to say the least, and he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t like the idea— Connor is possibly the only person on Earth who could ever match him word for word and blow for blow, but it’s more than that. They met in the most desperate circumstances possible, and still managed to reach out to each other from opposite sides of the line. They have known both mankind and android kind at their worst; and come out the other side alive, if with slightly haunted eyes.

Connor is probably the only person Markus could have a completely honest discussion with. The rather obvious pull of mutual attraction between them is just a bonus.

But there’s little time for _feeling_ when you’re leading a revolution, and so they make do with the occasional lingering touch —a hand on the shoulder, a pat on the back— and a few well-placed hints here and there, in a game of _‘will they – won’t they’_ that has probably been driving others around them crazy with frustration.

Hank sure had a few choice words about that.

Connor clears his voice and straightens his tie –this is neither the time nor the place. They’ve been invited to a gala at the White House, to meet Madam President herself and hopefully leave a good impression on the politicians that will have to sit down and make decisions about the android’s right to be protected against crime in the eyes of the law just as humans are.

Sure, the Madam probably extended the invitation also as a tactical move to ride on the public’s support of android rights and boost her own approval ratings, but… win-win situation.

North ‘gracefully’ declined the idea of a dress and showed up in a suit instead –still probably stealing the scene from most of the lady guests who will be present: it’s hard to outshine someone who was _hand-crafted_ to be beautiful.

They all got tailored suits, courtesy of Carl who called in his personal tailor when he heard his android son would be meeting face to face with the goddamn president; Josh is tugging nervously at his collar while Simon shakes his head.

"Just remember to keep smiling."

Connor had never owned clothes beyond his uniform –and even that was technically property of Cyberlife— so the whole getting _'dolled up for the big party'_ , as Mr. Manfred put it in good humor, was quite a new and surreal adventure for him as well, but he understands the tactical aspect of it: humans and their opinion are more easily swayed if you look the part... stealing a glance in their leader's direction, the RK800 can _definitely_ appreciate said look on Markus.

The armed guards at the doors still put Connor slightly on edge, but the other is by his side to give his elbow a soft squeeze.

_«Relax. We're guests. Not intruders. We're here to work our charm on these people, not take them down.»_

_«Yes, well. You take care of the charm part. I'll watch out for your rear-end.»_

_«Have fun with that. I've been told it looks good in these pants.»_

_«Guys! Gala now, flirting later!»_

Both RK prototypes turn minutely towards North as they are escorted inside the hall –they are both amused that she’s picked up on it, and not sorry in the least.

_«Yes ma'am.»_

It's the last thing Markus has time to say before they're all but sucked into greetings and introductions.

 

The event itself is, as they all feared, devastatingly dull. Markus now understands Carl's distaste for cocktail parties –no amount of 'appreciation' is worth listening to the same droning over and over, especially when a good percentage of it is fake, or skeptical at best.

They have just now narrowly avoided an incident with a man making the wrong kind of comment about North's model –she was just about ready to stab the guy with one of her heels, but Connor _respectfully_ pointed out how impolite it was to make passes at a guest and that surely all other women in the room would find it despicable if one were to make light of horrors such as the ones North had to endure.

Within forty seconds, North had almost the entirety of the female partygoers on her side, and the offending man was shamed into silence.

The topic was courteously avoided after that, though Markus makes a mental note to address the matter with Madam President sometime tonight –he wouldn't make anybody's choices for them, but in his whole existence he has yet to meet a sex worker who _wasn't_ forced into it, human _or_ android that they be.

Sudden movement to his right and Connor perking up to it pull the RK200 out of his thoughts.

They were expecting to see yet another diplomat introducing themselves to Markus, some big-wig or other trying to puff up their chest and deluding themselves that they could have a firmer handshake than a man with metal hands —Markus may or may not be having slightly too much fun in making them all flinch before he lets go— but no.

It's a child. 6 years old, in her pyjamas and likely woken up by the commotion.

A face scans identifies her as Delilah Warren –if he could, Connor is quite sure he would _blanch_ right now. The President's daughter is less than two metres away from Markus, in a room full of armed guards and eyewitnesses that can choose to recount _whatever the fuck they want_.

"...mommy?" She calls, her tiny voice instantly bringing forth silence as she holds her bunny plush by one paw, the rest of it trailing slightly behind her. "I can't sleep. Can I have a story?"

Such is the life of the US President –you marry late because you had to focus on your career, but even after that you have little to no time for your child.

Warren sighs and tries to smile at her daughter. "In a little while, honey. Go back to your room."

"I _don't want to_!" The child complains, "There's a monster in my room!"

"A monster, you say?" Markus had been shocked into silence by the child's first appearance in the room, but now his face softens into a smile. Caretaker instincts taking over, he shoots a glance at Connor. "Maybe we can help. What is your name, dear?"

She stares up at the strange person with different colored eyes, curiosity making her tentatively step closer. "Delilah."

Markus' smile only grows. "You carry the name of a sweet song, Delilah. My name is Markus." He says, kneeling to be at eye-level with her, "And this is my friend Connor. Do you know what he does?" When the child obviously shakes her head 'no', Markus continues: "He _hunts_ monsters."

"Markus—" Connor tries to protest the statement, because as the former deviant hunter that would imply that Markus himself was the monster, but he doesn't have the time to.

"He protected me so many times, he's _the best_. What say we go check your room for monsters while you stay with your mom?"

Predictably, little Delilah breaks into a smile at seeing someone taking her fear at heart, and nods enthusiastically, taking one of Markus' hands and tugging towards the room she came from.

"Markus, I appreciate it but it's not necessary—" President Warren is understandably concerned at letting a stranger follow her daughter to her bedroom –a corner of her mind registers that her fear is not because Markus is an android or a deviant, she'd feel the same even if the man holding her daughter's hand was a human... possibly worse so.

"They're going to check for monsters, mommy! Come on!" Clearly, her daughter is having none of that, so the Madam simply follows the three, along with two of her bodyguards, and is treated to a rare show.

"Ok, you stay here. Hold your mommy's hand." Markus urges Delilah to stay back, keeping a smile to his face and a gentleness in his voice that is above what she’s ever heard even from humans around her, "Connor and I are going to check for monsters now."

_«_ _Markus, what are we even doing?_ _»_

_«_ _She is lonely and scared to sleep by herself._ _»_ the RK200 explains, _«_ _To have even a pretend search party will make her feel less alone, lower her distress and make the darkness appear less scary. Do this for me?_ _»_

 _«_ _...Fine._ _»_ he clears his voice before raising it a little, "I will now scan the area for any traces of monsters."

 _There’s_ another thing he’d never done before. He retracts the polymer from his hands and taps every wall in the room, plus the closet doors.

"Good. I'll check under the bed."

Connor has to admit, entertaining a child together is funnier than catering to the stuffy politicians they had to speak with in the hall. Markus was originally built for this— to care for others. Looks like it never really went away –it may even be the reason why _he_ ended up being the one to give androids freedom in the first place.

"Look, mommy, that's so cool!"

Warren can only watch in puzzled amazement as a state of the art police prototype and the leader of the android revolution go out of their way to indulge her little girl.

"All traces of monster activity have been eradicated from this room." Connor declares matter-of-factly, fixing his tie and pointedly avoiding anyone's gaze.

Markus smiles at him, and plops cross-legged on the bed to address the people in the doorway. "The bed has been secured as well. It's just waiting for its bunny rabbit friend."

Hesitantly, Delilah makes her way into the room hugging said bunny rabbit close to her chest. Markus is about to get off the bed to give her enough space to sleep, but the child grabs at the sleeve of his suit jacket and pulls.

"Wait! Can I have a story?"

Caught between his own willingness to tell this little doe-eyed princess all of the several thousands of stories he knows and the worry of upsetting Madam President, the RK200 looks to Warren for approval, unaware that he himself is giving the room a set of puppy eyes for the history books. Connor holds back the laughter, while Warren shrugs minutely and nods, defeated by the combined powers of her daughter’s _‘mommy please’_ look and the deviant leader’s mirror of it

This is several degrees of surreal.

Markus settles back down in his sitting position, Delilah wastes no time climbing over him like a koala and he starts his story.

"Once upon a time, there was a donkey, who—"

" _Wait!_ Why is Connor going away?" The child's interruption startles Markus out of his story and the other into stillness –he was covertly leaving the room, not entirely sure on what else to do, but clearly little miss Delilah has other plans. "Didn't you say he protects us from monsters?"

"That's... true, I said that." Markus locks eyes with the RK800 then.

 _«_ _Come on, just until she falls asleep._ _»_ he pleads, before switching to the public network: _«_ _Simon, can you please inform anyone looking for me that I've been held up momentarily, and for anything they wish to discuss they can refer to North, Josh and yourself?_ _»_

_«_ _...sure?_ _»_

_«_ _This better be what I think it is or it's not worth it._ _»_

He chuckles –it figures North would think he was sneaking off with Connor and up to no good. It's not entirely wrong either.

Connor comes to sit by Markus' side and the story can resume.

"...there was a donkey, who had served his master well for many years..."

President Warren is still reluctant to leave her daughter alone with two strangers, but it soon becomes clear even to her that Markus will do nothing but tell her stories and cater to her every whim, while Connor will watch over both with the single-minded focus only a prototype is capable of.

It's very likely that there's no one in the entirety of the United States safer than Delilah is right now.

Warren chuckles bemusedly to herself with a shake of her head and moves to leave the room.

One of her bodyguards stops her. "Ma'am? Should we keep watch?"

"Just one of you, out here. Keep an ear out for any changes." She orders, erring on the side of caution just in case, "The other one can come back with me, we have guests to apologize to."

 

"...From that time forward the robbers never ventured to that house, and the four Bremen town musicians found themselves so well off where they were, that there they stayed—"

_«_ _Markus..._ _»_

Connor's call of his name interrupts the hushed telling of the story and makes him look down.

Delilah has fallen asleep on his lap –at last, she does not look scared anymore.

It pulls a smile out of him. Adults everywhere would have a thing or two to learn from children's boundless, pure acceptance. He tries to lower her on the bed and stand up, but her tiny hands close in fists in the fabric of his jacket when he moves even just a little.

_«_ _I seem to be trapped._ _»_

_«_ _The military tried so hard, and this is what does you in._ _»_

The RK200 can barely contain his laughter –the sass was audible even through their wireless communication unit– but he managed not to wake the child.

_«_ _Well, there's only one thing to do now._ _»_

With that, Markus leans back and powers down, letting the child use him as a pillow and entering stasis: if he's stuck here doing nothing, he might as well use this time to declutter his processes and let his systems rest, since everyone is so adamant that he needs to more often.

 _«_ _Are you serious?_ _»_ Connor is almost at a loss for words. _«_ _Markus?_ _»_

Nothing. The RK200 is already 'asleep'.

He lets out a sigh. _«_ _Typical. For the first time we share a bed and it's for something like this._ _»_

Leaning over to place the lightest of kisses on Markus' temple, Connor also makes himself comfortable, leaning his head on the other's shoulder and closing his eyes, even though he does not power down completely and still picks up the radio frequency Madam President's guards are using.

The last thing he hears is: _«_ _...all still clear on sector G12. All three parties are asleep._ _»_

 

If someone tells you an android is _'sleeping'_ , you obviously don't just take it at face value. Especially if you're not an android and cannot imagine what would be equivalent to sleeping for them.

You'll be doubly curious if you had left your only daughter with said slumbering android.

Now that most of the guests have started heading back, Warren can discreetly excuse herself and head over to where she left Delilah.

"Still asleep?" She asks the guard.

"Yes ma'am."

"The androids, too?"

The man shuffles nervously from foot to foot. "Yes, ma'am."

"How?"

"I don't know, they just stopped talking and moving, nothing has been happening for the last 45 minutes, ma'am."

"If I may?" Both the Madam and the guard turn to look at Josh, who inclines his head politely and carries on: "Androids have a stasis cycle which _could_ be considered an approximation of human sleep. It serves to declutter processes, cool down biocomponents and restore optimal functionality levels."

"I... understand." Warren isn't completely sure she does, but she nods at Josh regardless.

"That being said, we've surely overstayed our welcome, so I'll happily try and collect our fearless leaders and get out of your hair. Ma'am."

The evening has been a peculiar one for sure. Warren nods at the guard to open the door and.

_Well._

_This is unfairly adorable._

Before the public opinion grew sympathetic to the android's cause, Markus had been a _terrorist_ , a _threat to national security_... it's been hard to let go of that definition and look past it.

Now? Warren would seriously consider hiring the RK200 as a baby sitter. She's never seen Delilah sleep as well as she is now, with her head nestled under Markus' chin and her little hands on his chest, still grabbing at his suit jacket even as she is fast asleep.

Markus himself is sprawled mostly on his back along the bed, eyes closed and child protectively cradled in his arms as if she was his own; while Connor is at Markus' left, resting sideways with his head just barely touching the RK200's shoulder.

It almost looks like one of those advertising photos for android children, but in reverse.

Warren can almost hear the commercial gig: _get your Android Dad today! He will tell you stories and never get tired of playing! Get one now and you can get another for free, he'll chase away monsters and has a gun!_

It's too much, she giggles to herself.

How has she ever thought these people could ever be a danger to humanity?

Connor seems to react to the sound of her voice –he stirs, the skin on his right hand briefly disappears and he touches his fingertips to one of Markus' cheekbones.

Markus 'awakens' as well, both androids immediately finding her with their gazes.

Testing the waters by lightly brushing a hand over the one Delilah still has on his jacket, the RK200 deems the child in a deep enough sleep to move, nodding a silent affirmative to Connor.

They quietly dislodge themselves from the sleep lump; then Markus tucks Delilah in properly.

Once out of the room and with no danger of waking the child, the revolution leader steps up to Madam President somewhat self-consciously.

"...You have a very bright child, Madam." He settles for eventually, "Delilah asks lots of questions, she is scared of what she can't know, but wants to learn."

"Don't I know it..." Warren almost scoffs at the words that to a mother are basically stating the obvious, but she does have one question: "How did you calm her down?"

"I explained to her that just because it's dark it doesn't mean that the things she loves and cherishes are not there anymore –they are just slightly harder to see. She will find them if she simply looks enough."

There are probably about fifteen different ways to run a parallel between Markus' words and the androids' cause as it has been so far, and he's clearly not even trying to hide it... but he's right, and the Madam concedes with a smile.

"Well. I was going to thank you for attending my little soiree, but it seems I'm also thanking you for looking after Delilah. Lord knows the poor thing doesn't interact with enough people—" Warren stops short at what she just said.

Markus is similarly stunned, gaping at her with those unnatural, earnest mismatched eyes. He still lets her save face for the most part: the RK200 doesn't say anything except for a breathless "Thank you."

Having known Markus long enough, Connor can tell he will either start crying or singing in the next fifty seconds, so he takes charge of the situation. “Yes, thank you, Madam President, for indulging your guests… even two as boorish as Markus and myself.”

Warren politely chuckles and watches as the RK800 takes Markus’ hand to urge him away and out. There’s a whispered “Come on, let’s go” and a barely there hum of approval, but what catches the Lady’s eyes is that Markus doesn’t let go of the other’s hand.

Huh.

Definitely unfair in its adorableness –it’s a lost cause. Whatever reservations she had about these two androids in particular are crumbling like a castle of cards.

They manage to say their goodbyes and take their leave without causing further incident, but just when they’re reunited with North and Simon and about to board the self-driving car that will bring them back to the new and improved Jericho quarters, Josh nudges Markus and speaks up.

“By the way North, I win. These dorks were reading a child to sleep.”

“What?!” North seems outraged by their lack of progress in the intimacy department. “Honestly Markus, weren’t you the one who preached about having _courage_ and _taking_ what’s rightfully yours?”

Contrary to his usual, diplomatic denial that never really fooled anyone, their ‘fearless leader’ regards them with a smirk. “Well… the night is still young.” The tightening of Markus’ fingers around his own makes Connor realize that they’ve been _holding hands this whole time, shit—_ “I wouldn’t be so sure of  Josh’s victory just yet.”

The wink doesn’t do him in, but Markus’ voice in his head does: _«_ _After all, what kind of bodyguard would you be if you didn’t come and check for monsters in my bed tonight?_ _»_

Connor almost chokes on air he doesn’t need at that proposition. _«_ _The expression is ‘under’ the bed, Markus._ _»_

_«_ _Semantics. Do you want to continue where we left off or not?_ _»_

Sharing a bed while powered down and doing absolutely nothing, only to wake up side by side to the feeling of each other’s skin? Hell yes. _«_ _If you insist._ _»_

Markus bumps shoulders with him; and Connor could swear his thirium pump regulator just melted upon seeing that smile directed at him. “I do.”

Said out loud and with no context, it gives room for _a whole lot_ of interpretations –somehow, Connor thinks that was the RK200’s exact purpose. Somewhere tonight, between the lengths he’ll go to indulge Markus and the whirlwind of emotions Markus can make him feel while doing the most inane things, something shifted the balance of their game of chase, and they drifted closer.

Typical Markus, admitting to it first but saying nothing about it at the same time.

What a jackass.

Connor feels a smile tug at his own lips.

He can’t wait to get home, now: he could get used to sharing a bed with Markus.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh by the way, the song Markus means is **"Hey there, Delilah" by Plain White T's** , _not_ the Tom Jones one. The lyrics are steeply different.


End file.
